Chapter 24: On the Brink

Vincent heard the roar off in the distance well before the twig splintered next to his ear. Where Alice had found residency in his lap, she jerked her head up along with him at the disturbance.

Jack peered over them like some eerie ghoul, his fingers pressed tightly to his lips. Behind him, the fire had been snuffed out with a heaping of dirt. The only evidence of its existence was the low trail of smoke dissipating into nothing.

From what they could tell with a hurried glance to the moonlit sky above them, time now rested within the earliest hours of the morning; well before the advent of dawn.

“Stay down,” the sergeant whispered through clenched teeth, shoving Vincent’s raised head back onto the ground. The soldier remained crouched as he slinked his way towards a wide-eyed Matthew.

Kurt stayed prone on the ground. He craned his head, keeping it as low as he could in his pursuits to see what lied beyond them without exposing himself.

The rumble of an engine growled a second time at a louder volume, even from its distance to their location. From the growing intensity, Alice pictured a set of mechanical teeth baring down in fury. Teeth coming closer, and fast, with the intent to rend the throat of its prey.

The roar sounded deafening as the vehicle blazed by them. She could hardly discern the shape of the truck from the fleeting light of the night sky within the murky forest and the nearly impregnable shadows contained within its dark domain.

The vehicle roared by them, projecting an orange light that illuminated the trees. Dust flew into the air from the spinning tires. The obscured frame of the transport disappeared within the ensuing cloud like it were a ghostly apparition flying off into the distance.

“Oh, no,” Kurt whined from the ground. The leaves rustled with the shift of his weight. “We’ve been found.”

For a moment, Alice felt her heart race, having considered that possibility. They’d stuck to the forest precisely to avoid such an encounter. It seemed obvious their enemies would employ the usage of an off-road vehicle.

“Shut the hell up,” Jack said, careful to keep his voice low.

Alice spoke. “They sped by. If they’d taken notice, they’d have slowed down or something. Turned around even. Besides, wouldn’t they have night vision? Spotlights?”

Her words sounded like a plea, a desperate one meant to convince herself they were still safe.

“Looked like just a truck to me,” Vincent said. He leaned forward; his eyes glowed in an eerie way underneath the light of the moon. The sight reminded Alice of when she’d caught the reflection of a cat’s stare in the wrong light.

A giant cat with bared teeth, growling while its claws tore through skin like a scrap of paper.

She shook the image of the lioness from her head. Now was the time to firmly keep her head straight upon her shoulders, and not let it fall off with erratic thoughts dwelling on almost becoming a predator’s warm, screaming meal.

“All banged up and covered in rust,” said Vincent. He looked to the distance. “There was even a large dent on the driver’s door. I know we didn’t see anything like that in the prison courtyard.”

The others all looked perplexed. How in the hell could he see the vehicle so clearly? Even for Alice, she hadn’t caught much more than blinding headlights and the retreating silhouette of a tailgate obscured by dust and darkness.

“Vincent, can you…can you see in the dark?” Alice asked.

The boy blinked at her. “I, uh, guess so.”

Kurt muttered something to himself. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked the question under his breath. At least that’s what it sounded like to Alice.

“One.”

The brunette technician froze, taken aback by the sudden answer. The correct answer too, if his expression provided any indication.

“And it’d better lower if you don’t want me to come over there and break it.”

The teen obliged without comment. His rear was in enough hot water as of late anyway. Why turn up the temperature? Or risk limping away with his middle finger broken?

“You’re certain about the truck; that it looked like that?” asked Jack.

The raising and lowering of Vincent’s head brought the sergeant a sense of relief.

“Then they were civvies.”

Alice scowled at the declaration, annoyed by the questions it gave rise to in her head. “Doing what at this hour? Taking a little joyride?”

“It could mean civilization is nearby,” Jack spoke. His smile widened. “Segan, maybe. I told you all we were close.”

Kurt extended another finger, wisely the index. “They went that way though.”

“So they did,” Alice replied. She furrowed her brow as she continued to ponder motives.

Jack chuckled as he rose to his feet. “Yeah, in the direction of the prison. You wanting to turn back or something?”

A meek shake of the head provided him his answer.

“We’ll be better off going the way they came from. I say we get started.”

Matthew protested. “But we were just…” his voice trailed off as he saw the looks of disapproval from the others. “…sleeping,” he reluctantly finished the sentiment before he stood to his feet with a sigh of resignation. Lamenting disturbed rest didn’t change the fact they needed to be on the move.

They resumed their march, brushing past foliage and contending with rugged terrain. Matthew stumbled a few times. The second fall scraped the skin along his knee.

“You alright?” Alice asked him.

His lower lip protruded for a moment before he gave the woman a nod. She imagined he’d experienced worse inside the prison. A scraped knee was likely nothing to him. Even in lieu of that reality, it still made it difficult to suppress her urge to hug the six-year-old boy.

The group continued their hike up the incline. They moved along a dirt trail that traveled straight along to the top of the hill. It seemed to go on for the better part of a quarter of a mile before it plateaued into civilization.

The sight standing before them was one that commanded power even through its humble appearance. Tiles decorated the cross-gabled roof of the cottage. A triangular archway hung above the white door, bidding entry to the quaint slice of sanctuary that had presented itself before their weary eyes and aching feet.

More amazingly; below the house lied a patchwork of paved roads and the silhouettes of sturdy-looking buildings: Segan.

Jack wandered ahead. He crept towards the residence, his body lying low. The group shared looks of confusion. They needed a place to stay. No one debated that fact. Could they take such a tremendous risk? Bounding into somebody’s home? Invading the sanctity of their residence in their haste for refuge?

As they moved closer, Alice found her eyes lingering to the front windows affixed to the abode. One of them was completely shattered, the glass remnants were shiny beacons glittering along the decorative patch of stone tile beneath it. The sight signaled trouble. The air of what had appeared to be sanctuary now thickened with dread, as the sight of the vandalism provoked questions. The kind of inquiries where the wrong series of answers held a tragic end for them.

She felt Vincent tug on her sleeve. Though her worries didn’t completely leave her, the woman would have lied if she said his warm gaze didn’t melt the ice around her, providing her with much-desired comfort.

All the comfort in the world won’t do us any good if we’re dead, she thought as she looked back to the house. Jack made it to the door, peering in through the windows.

Curtains blew, moving back and forth from the night wind. The man took his hand and angled it above the doorknob. He resolved himself, grasping onto the brass handle.

The door opened. He stood by the entrance, peering into the dark room. Jack spared a quick look to the group behind him before he took a breath and breached the entrance of the home with a lofty step forward and a raised rifle in hand.

The sergeant swallowed the lump in his throat at the sight of the scene before him. Even in the dark, the light of the moon provided him enough of a grim reminder that even civilians could be a threat to their safety.

A table lied overturned on the floor. A toolset’s contents had spilled along the ground at the foot of the table. One of the objects, a hammer, had been stained in a red liquid.

His eyes trailed, taking in the sight of the body. Darkness concealed the worst of the damage the man sprawled along the floorboards had sustained. From what he could see, the face had been shattered beyond all recognition.

He made the sign of the cross with his fingers before he continued looking around the living room. Blood puddled at his feet, splattering along the ground with his steps. What happened here was a fresh turn of events. Recent enough to have coincided with the speeding truck roaring through the woods.

They’d stumbled upon a home invasion. A lynching that could’ve taken place for any number of reasons. And here they were walking smack dab into the middle of the aftermath.

“Is everything alright in there?” Vincent’s distinct voice called out to him from the exterior.

He glared to the entryway, not appreciative of the teen’s lack of tact. “It’s alright,” he muttered. His eyes spied a white comforter unfurled along the back of the living room couch. “Just wait a minute,” he said at a greater volume.

Picking up the blanket, he threw it over the body. Once he'd wrapped the deceased man into a bundle, he began to pull the figure by his feet. As he made his way to the outside, the moonlight revealed a red trail that had formed around the head.

One of the others took a rush of breath as he brought out the blanketed pile of dead meat. He dragged the body to the corner of the house where bushes stood, their leaves trembling in the wind.

Matthew approached, reaching a timid hand towards the white sheets permeated in a persistent patch of red.

“Don’t look at it,” Jack barked.

The boy shrank back at the harsh tone.

The sergeant softened his face at the child. “You don’t need to see such a thing, okay? You just stay out here a moment longer. We’ll make sure it’s safe.”

“Safe,” Vincent echoed the word behind him. Skepticism graced the young man’s handsome features. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to offer any further comment on the matter. He kept his focus pointed towards the entrance of the cottage.

Jack approached him. “You’re coming with me. With what happened here, I’d prefer to keep this place how I like my coffee.”

“Pitch black?” Alice inquired. Her tone was bemused but not her countenance. There was no time for laughter at the sight of a murder.

The sergeant nodded. “You got it.” He paused, turning to Vincent. “Besides, we could use those eyes of yours, kid.”

Vincent hummed in agreement before he followed the soldier into the residence. Jack motioned the boy ahead of him. It’d be easier to have him take point than to go around running into the occasional wall or piece of overturned furniture.

They meandered from room to room. One of the venues was a bathroom with no windows. Jack fumbled his finger along the wall until it brushed against a light switch. He flicked it, illuminating the area in a dim, flickering light.

Vincent looked at him with a baffled expression. Again, he opted not to say anything, which sat just fine with Jack.

The sergeant moved past the teen. He positioned himself by the sink. His eyes focused on the real prize: A white medicine cabinet.

Licking his lips, he opened the mirrored door to find several tiny bottles resting neatly in place along the shelves. He spied several labels. Generic-looking cold medicine. Tylenol. His eyes gleamed with delight at the prize they lingered upon: Fentanyl.

That opioid had caused quite the stir in Deinan. One so pervasive it had managed to infiltrate even Fort Brein’s walls. It was a painkiller far more potent than morphine. Several of the guards at the prison indulged in its use. Quite a few of the prisoners did too; namely Shan, before someone decided to slit his throat while he was handcuffed to a hospital bed.

He chuckled darkly, finding it amusing that the man’s drug of choice was going to the person suspected to have killed him. Cain had barged into his office with a couple of his meathead goons, demanding they hold a trial. The naivety was almost charming if it weren’t so pathetic. The warden wouldn’t have allowed him to hold any proceedings until his return from the capital. Especially if said proceedings involved Golden Phoenix.

“What’s that?” Vincent asked, gesturing to the bottle he held.

He regarded the inquisitive teen with a grin, rattling the bottle in his hands as he did so. “Happy pills. Because when your girlfriend takes these, she’s going to be happy.”

“Girl…friend?” he cocked his head, trying to process the meaning behind the strange term.

Jack eyed the boy in amusement. “You can’t tell me she’s not. Not with the way you two have been lately.”

“Hmm…well, she is a girl. And my friend too. So yeah, I’d say she’s my girlfriend.”

“Er…no. That’s not quite what I mean.”

The puppy-dog tilt ensued once more. “Then what do you mean?”

Jack chuckled, deciding it best to tiptoe around the subject. “Well, if you have to ask, then you might want to sort that out with her. I’m sure she’ll be happy to discuss it with you.”

“I guess,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

He guessed? What a funny thing to say. Here this young man had an attractive woman he went skinny dipping with, and the best he could do was shrug? Either he was the densest creature going around sucking up air on the face of the earth, or he truly didn’t understand how fortunate he was. The girl was practically head over heels for him. He would’ve been lying if he were to say he didn’t feel a bit jealous.

Then again, he’d heard the boy was an experiment. One of Vladsco’s many pet-projects. Had the general not made him aware of the obvious? The birds and the bees? Pollination?

Jack frowned, turning from Vincent before he saw the shift in his expression. He knew better. The only relationships the warden would have allowed that boy to have would involve severing lives versus forging connections. That might also help explain why his personality bore a resemblance to cardboard.

He flipped the switch, killing the dim light barely illuminating the bathroom.

The boy went ahead of him in continuation of their exploration. The next venue ventured was a humble kitchen. It didn’t exude much in the way of space.

Jack let out a sharp intake of breath. Judging by his foot’s collision with the table, he’d go as far as to say the room was somewhere around 70 square feet.

The pale light from the refrigerator illuminated Vincent. He could see concern rife on the boy’s face. “Are you sure you still want the room like your coffee?” his voice questioned. Something resembling amusement danced in his tone. A far cry from the accounts he’d heard about him being devoid of emotions. He’d honestly seen plenty of range during their time together.

“Glad to see I picked the comedian,” Jack grumbled. He brushed him aside with his hand as he peered into the refrigerator. His stomach grumbled at the sight of the food.

The cold air of the freezer greeted him next, and he was pleased to see frozen dinners sitting inside. A warm meal would do wonders in filling his discontent stomach. Processed food as it may be, it was at least something substantial. Something that wouldn’t have him feeling like an herbivore grazing the land eating what amounted to his dinner’s dinner.

He looked to Vincent. “I think we might’ve struck gold. You feelin’ rich?”

“Tired and hungry.”

“Lucky you. We came to the right place.”

Vincent nodded. “I’ll go tell-”

“Wait,” Jack said, holding up a hand to keep the boy from wandering off. “We still need to keep the lights off.”

“In case the people who…well, you know.”

“Yeah. Another party comes through here, we don’t want to be advertising our presence. See if you can find a flashlight or something.”

Vincent nodded before his hands began rummaging through drawers. From the racket, he’d come across the silverware.

“Keep it down a little,” Jack remarked before he began to inspect the table. He stumbled across a few trinkets, nothing atypical for a kitchen. Salt and pepper shakers. A notepad he couldn’t read in the dark. A plastic pen with some inscription printed onto it, likely a business name with a telephone number included.

Something kicked behind him. Jack’s eyes widened as he whirled around and aimed his rifle. He paused for a moment at the distinct sound of ice collecting inside the freezer. The sergeant let out a nervous laugh, cursing under his breath as he shook his head.

Vincent wasn’t even looking at him. He had lowered himself underneath the kitchen sink, more so interested in the contents beneath. Glass clinked in his hand, and he pulled out a small, circular object.

Jack approached him. The scent of peaches teased his nose. When he opened the refrigerator again, the light revealed a candle. The label unsurprisingly advertised a peach fragrance.

“That’s a good start. You got a lighter for it?”

“I’ve got an Alice,” Vincent responded.

That earned another bout of laughter from the sergeant. “I suppose that’s as good any. Go ahead and get the others. We’ll make some food and set camp for a while.”

With that proposition eagerly accepted, the brunette disembarked to share their find with the others. Not before Jack helped himself to a slice of bologna. A paltry price to pay for a finder’s fee if he had to say so himself.

****

Vincent had to suppress a chuckle when his commanding officer snapped her fingers. The resulting flame burned delicately above her index finger. She hovered it over the wick and the candle lit itself within seconds.

The entrance to the abode was a mess. The others seemed bothered by it, but Vincent took the time to reassure them the house was empty. If they wanted it to stay that way, they’d need to avoid using the light switches. The only one that was fair-game was the bathroom light, and that was only because of the absence of windows.

“A warm shower,” Jack had murmured. Everyone appreciated the thought.

They congregated around the kitchen, brought together by the faint, flickering flame of the candle held between Vincent’s hands. The furnace blowing through the ventilation also provided them relief from the nipping wind outside.

The microwave beeped, signaling that dinner was ready. The first frozen dinner was comprised of a tray of some unidentified meat with fake grill marks branded onto it next to a side of mashed potatoes. The food was shoved before Alice and Matthew. Women and children first proved to be the silent understanding.

She took a bite out of it, chewing on it, transporting the meat from her teeth to the ridge of her mouth before she swallowed.

“How is it?” Vincent asked.

“Not as good as it looks on the box. Little cold around the sides. Way too warm in the center.”

Jack looked up from the appliance, having loaded the next tray into it. “That’s a microwave for you.

She shook her head. “Has nothing to do with false advertising and the fact that there is water escaping from the meat with every bite.”

“So you don’t want it?”

Alice glared at the sergeant. “This processed abomination is mine. I’ll melt the fingers off the first one of you that tries to take it.”

This got a laugh from the others. Before too much longer they had their meals in front of them. Unfortunately, the lieutenant’s description had been too precise. The meat, which the box claimed to be Salisbury steak, tasted like a processed slab of…something filled with water that oozed out at the slightest pressure.

With as hungry as they were, they all would have personally gotten on their hands and knees and thanked the factory that had slapped this hastily-prepared concoction, with its multisyllabic ingredients, into the cardboard container that housed it.

Before long, Jack addressed the crowd. “Well, it’s late. I vote we go to sleep now and save the warm showers for the morning.”

Kurt stood from the table and made his way over to the darkened hallway, disappearing from sight. The sound of a door closing was his only reply.

Vincent frowned. Even during the meal, he couldn’t help but notice how the brunette teen seemed content in shooting him dirty looks, all while silently praying Vincent would choke on his food. To be honest, the amber-eyed teen would be lying if he were to say that he didn’t wish the same for his spiteful companion.

Jack patted Matthew’s shoulder. “What do you say we take the couch, kid?”

The boy shook his head. “I’d rather stay in here. I…don’t want to be near that room.”

Vincent didn’t blame the boy. He wouldn’t want to lay anywhere near that living room with all the blood staining the floor. With all the vital fluid soaking through the sheet Jack had dragged outside, he could only imagine what had happened in there.

The sergeant hummed as he drummed his knuckles on the table.

“Well, I think we can manage that. I’ll see if we can fetch you a pillow and a blanket. Bet we can get you a nice, cozy setup in here.”

The child nodded, finding that idea much more agreeable than lying next to a murder scene.

Vincent and Alice stayed with Jack and Matthew for a bit. The sergeant found another comforter in the house. The pillow came from the couch and the boy nestled himself in the corner. He dozed off in record timing from the world around them, the allure of sleep taking him far away. Hopefully to a land devoid of war and murders.

Once the child was sound asleep, the sergeant excused himself and reclined onto the couch. He seemed reluctant, but he figured it’d be for the best. “I’m a light sleeper,” he boasted.

Vincent personally didn’t care how heavy of a sleeper he was. Given the raiders had previously come in through the broken window, he felt that was undoubtedly the worst place the man could be in the house. Still, if he was certain, the teen would turn a blind eye to it.

That still only left one bedroom. Alice offered no objections when Vincent proposed they share it together, though she nervously looked away when she agreed. He wasn’t sure why. Hadn’t they shared a cell within the prison? How was this any different?

As they made their way to the bedroom door, thoughts of the lake sprang into Vincent’s mind. When they’d shared a cell, they hadn’t had the experiences they did now. Maybe that’s why his heart had started hammering like a desperate man left out in the cold who was trying to pound his way through the door of a warm building.

****

The door to the bedroom clicked open as Alice followed the candle. More specifically, she followed the young man who held it.

She’d helped herself to the medicine bottle Jack had offered her earlier. It was amazing how one tiny, blue pill could dull her pain. She felt relieved to be free of it. Yet she was more nervous than ever. No drug on earth could make her feel the way she did with the boy who’d pulled her into the lake.

Alice closed her eyes and drank in the memory. The way he’d pulled her underneath the waters and kissed her. It really was like magic. A spell that made her feel a happiness nothing else within this world could have. She opened her eyes, feeling her cheeks burn.

He was sitting across from her now. Golden eyes intently watched her like she was the most fascinating sight to see on the planet. Like he had found some long-lost treasure.

How long had it been since… No. She was positive no man alive had ever looked upon her the way Vincent did. Not Julius, not that loathsome animal from the prison, nor any of the many amorous looks from the male cadets that claimed their desire to catch her eye. No. None other on this earth compared to it.

There was a part of her that felt giddy at the prospect. To think that there may just be one out there to accept a creature like her, broken as she was. One willing to attempt to repair the broken pieces of her, once shattered, heart. A heart that she had once thought would never be mended.

However…

The brunette sat the candle by the bedroom nightstand. The orange glow moved and flickered along the walls in an almost intoxicating dance, the girl’s pull on the flame causing it to rise and fall as if it were breathing. Vincent offered her a smile.

Alice swallowed, heart racing. Goosebumps traveled along her spine. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts continued to drift back to the lake: Their stolen moment. He’d touched her so tenderly. A part of her couldn’t help but ponder where they would stand now if Kurt had never interfered.

Would he have confessed his love? Yes, she was almost positive that’s what he had been trying to say now. Would she have accepted? Would she have given into his advances and fallen completely under this spell that was desperate to claim her heart once more?

The blonde chewed her lip. No. That wasn’t correct. She was positive now more than ever that she had never felt such a way. Sapphire eyes drifted to her lap. If only… If only this accursed war was over, and she was free to choose.

I choose you…

The blonde drew in a breath. He’d said the words so easily.

The boy dangled his slipper along the edge of his foot, the movement snapping the girl from her thoughts. It dropped to the floorboard below with a ‘thud’. He began to remove his other slipper in a similar manner, inching it off with the tips of his toes before gravity claimed the shoe.

Alice pulled her shoes off with her hands. She slid them off the bed. The girl paid little mind to the sound they made; she remained intent on watching the boy in front of her.

Golden eyes gleamed at her from behind his bangs. He brushed the hair away, revealing a clearer picture of his cherubic features. His full lips widened at the sight of her curiosity.

“You know, this is as good a time as any to talk.”

An offer. She bit her lip as she tried to figure out the best way to accept it. COULD she accept it?

“About us?” she finally asked. It felt almost like a dare to come out and say it. She shuddered, all too aware of the dangerous ground they’d begun to tread.

If she didn’t stop this now…

The boy smiled warmly. Too late…

The sultry gaze in his eyes and the soft hum he gave affirmed the brunette’s answer.

Challenge accepted.

Alice fumbled. She had nothing to say. Everything to say. Oh, she hated how the words failed to emerge. Lingering on the tip of her tongue and disappearing before they surfaced out of her mouth. There was a time, that now felt like ages ago, that such an outcome was no different.

She supposed some things never truly changed.

Her mind snapped back to the young man when she felt him gently rub his hand along her shoulder. He allowed his fingers to slide along her arm before they rested at the top of her hand, creating a trail of tremors in their wake.

Vincent told her everything with a touch and eager eyes, while saying nothing at all. His actions spoke at a greater volume when he leaned closer to her.

Sapphire eyes widened. “W-wa-wait!” she suddenly squeaked, a twinge of desperation creeping into her voice.

He paused, acquiescing to her request. He looked expectantly at her, which only made the effort to speak even more challenging.

“You can’t.” She felt a lump inside her throat tremble. She looked away. “I mean, I…I don’t know.”

She only prayed the boy would understand. Never had her heart felt so torn between love and duty. Yes, she knew good and well that that duty was to an organization that cared not for her happiness or desire.

The boy’s next words nearly stopped her heart, and she forgot to breathe.

“I know that I love you.”

The arrow struck true, nearly toppling her with its intensity. She sucked in a breath, raising a trembling hand to her chest. “W-wh-why?”

How? How could he possibly love her? Did he even know what he was saying?

Vincent felt his chest tighten at the whisper. That was a good question. He closed his eyes briefly in thought. After a moment, he brushed the pad of his thumb along her hand, quirking a small smile at the trembling the action provoked.

“Because you mean everything to me.”

The blonde’s breath hitched as the boy then brought her hand to his chest, pressing her palm against it. The corners of her lips twitched as she felt his heart beating rapidly beneath her palm. It would seem he was just as at a loss as her.

When the brunette spoke again, his tone registered barely above a whisper, yet it carried with it all the weight of a clear shout.

“A-Alice, I… I may not have much in the way of memories, but the ones I do seem to have…are filled with you.” He paused, holding out the hand he’d had in his pocket since after they’d eaten earlier.

Alice gasped as he opened his hand, revealing the contents he’d been concealing. In his palm rested two brightly-colored, candy-coated chocolates. H-He must have found them in the kitchen earlier.

The girl sniffed. What were the odds? She had little time to ponder the matter as he gently placed the candy in her free hand before he continued.

“Ever since I woke up, Alice, you’re the only person that’s made me feel…whole. After all we’ve been through, I know I’m certain of only one thing-”

Please, don’t. Don’t say it!

“I choose you.” He inched closer as he spoke. “Now and forever, I’ll choose you. Even if my memory never completely returns, I choose you.”

The dam broke. Tears welled within the young lieutenant’s eyes as she averted her gaze. The boy couldn’t possibly… In choosing her, he didn’t understand what he would be giving up. Didn’t he see that?!

“You-you can’t though,” Alice choked, her words barely coming out.

“I obviously lost you once. I refuse to allow it a second time. As long as there’s a breath in me, I will choose you. Forever. No matter the cost.”

She couldn’t believe the words leaving his lips. The fire in her ignited at that, her inner composure all set to melt from such a careless statement. She was now positive the boy couldn’t possibly know what he was saying. Even still… Tears trickled along her cheeks as she sobbed. The boy was insane. He had to be. Then again…perhaps she was too. “Y-you have to stop. Because…if you don’t…I-I won’t be able to.”

She wasn’t strong enough for this.

Forever…

The boy’s words echoed through her ears once more, sending a bout of fresh tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

Vincent’s expression softened, his face now inches from her own as he gently trailed a hand along her back. “I didn’t say I had a problem with it.”

The echo of her earlier words set the fire within her to a blaze as she closed the distance and kissed him for the fourth time. She pushed him gently onto the bed and studied him for a few seconds. When he merely wiped the tears from her cheeks, she closed the distance and, for good measure, kissed him a fifth time.

You found me…

Vincent continued to wipe the tears from her eyes, even as their lips continued to meet and part over and over again. he wrapped his arms around her as gravity, with a little help from his own gentle tug, pulled her into his chest. His fingers gently traveled along her bare arms, relishing in the shiver he earned in response to the caress, before snaking around to her back.

Alice couldn’t help but smile, even as she felt the heat bleed into her cheeks. This all felt so…surreal. She would be lying if she were to say that a small part of her wasn’t afraid that she may have fallen asleep at some point, and this was all nothing more than a sweet dream. Then again, if this were a dream, it was one she wouldn’t mind to linger in.

Vincent pulled them into a sitting position, propping a pillow behind himself. His breath hitched at the unfamiliar friction as the girl slid down to rest directly in his lap. He gently combed a hand through her silken hair, eliciting yet another string of trembling from the young woman. HIS woman.

The brunette leaned forward again, recapturing the girl’s lips. Being mindful of her injuries, Vincent carefully brought his arms down to her waist.

Alice shuddered, squirming in the boy’s grasp as she felt the timid fingertips against her naked flesh.

Wait. What?

The teen shuddered. Apparently, the boy had, somehow, managed to unbutton her shirt and slide it from her shoulders without her even realizing.

A warm bolt of heat shot down Vincent’s spine as the blonde’s weight suddenly shifted, leaving him breathless. He was beginning to feel lightheaded. It was only then that he began to take notice of the faint, throbbing ache traveling to his lower body.

Alice stilled, feeling him against her then. Her cheeks darkened. Well, if she’d ever questioned the boy’s attraction to her…

She eased onto him, running her finger down the base of his spine as she leaned up to gently nip his ear.

The reaction was even better than anything her most amorous fantasies could have concocted.

Vincent’s eyes immediately closed, trembling as a soft moan escaped his lips.

It had to have been the most adorable sound Alice had ever heard. She repeated the action, earning herself a delightful whimper for her endeavors.

The brunette was lost in a world of ecstasy the likes of which he’d never known. His pulse throbbed in his ears as he timidly traced the edges of the young woman’s collar bone with a finger. Feeling emboldened by her responses to his touches thus far, his other hand came to rest upon her rear. He gave a soft squeeze.

Alice squeaked in surprise, color bleeding into her cheeks once more.

The pair regarded one another with shy eyes for a moment.

“I love you.”

The blonde shivered at the soft whisper next to her ear. Oh, no matter how many times the boy said it, she was positive she would never tire of hearing it.

“I-I love you too.”

Alice gave a coy smile as the boy seemed to quiver in response.

He was cold, huh? No problem. She would warm him.

Drawing upon her energy, she heated the tips of her fingers as she ran them down the boy’s exposed chest, relishing in the trembling she elicited from the young male. She wasn’t sure when she’d liberated the shirt from him, whether it was right now or perhaps forever ago. All she knew was, within that single moment, free from intrusion and judgment, the boy was hers.

Up. Down. The girl slowly traced a neat line from the boy’s chin all the way to his navel and back again.

She smiled, delighting in the sounds that had begun to leak from his lips.

Soft moans. Contented sighs. The breathless whisper of her name…

Alice gasped as the boy’s grip on her hips suddenly tightened. He closed his eyes, a faint whimper escaping his lips. Awash in sensation herself, she was unable to prevent the moan that rushed past her lips.

“Vi…Vin-cent.”

The boy shuddered again at the heated whisper, a tingling warmth overtaking his senses. The steady throb of his pulse thudded in his ears as he desperately tried to regain his breath.

A kind of sleepy warmth gradually descended upon the pair.

Alice smiled. Remembering the candy still held in her hand, her grin widened.

Well, what was one more sweet treat before bed?

She met the boy’s gaze before gathering the chocolate into her mouth and sealing their lips once more.

A blissful sigh escaped the blonde’s lips, enveloped in the sweet taste of chocolate-covered peanuts and a milky flavor that she could only describe as uniquely Vincent.

Vincent repositioned them, sliding down to lay them flat on the bed as they drew back from their kiss. He pulled her close, tucking her head securely beneath his chin.

Alice hummed softly in contentment as the boy continued his gentle attentions to her naked back. When one of his hands drifted lower, she timidly brushed her lips to his shoulder. “You know, that’s an awfully inappropriate way to be touching your commanding officer, Vincent.”

The boy gave a shy giggle, though his hand did not move from its position. “Well, I don’t hear my commanding officer complaining,” he challenged. He brought his lips to her ear and gently nipped her earlobe.

Alice’s breath hitched from his warm breath. His teeth instilled a pleasurable sensation within her.

“My commanding officer seemed to like that.”

She pouted at her subordinate. “It isn’t fair. If it weren’t for my ribs and how drowsy this painkiller is making me, you and I would be…” she lowered her head and bit her lip as she spoke. “…we’d go further.”

It was quite the difficult confession to make. She’d never made love with anyone her whole life, but, dear God, it was an experience she was certainly more than willing to try. The need to have this strange, new urge fulfilled was maddening. She was apt to blame teenage hormones. Yet she didn’t want to push her body and have her stitches ripped while having sex with him. That would have resulted in the type of screams that would have ruined the moment for the pair.

Vincent’s finger gingerly lifted her chin. Sympathy appeared prevalent in the young man’s features. Understanding even. For someone who hadn’t been well versed when it came to relationships, he seemed adept enough. The way he carried himself in private was a stark contrast to his public persona. The shy lamb ditched his wool coat to reveal a confident wolf underneath. One whose charms she couldn’t resist.

“I’m fine with it being like this,” he said before he kissed her once more. “Just the two of us.”

She rested her head on his chest. His heart drummed its familiar song to her; the rhythm of his love relaxed her racing pulse.

“You’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

“Oh?”

“The lake. Here. You seem to know how to sweep a woman off her feet, huh?”

Vincent let out a chuckle. “There you go describing being lifted again. I still say you just like being held in my arms.”

“And you like being the one doing the holding. I fear you’re going to pamper me now. The type of boyfriend to spoil his girl.”

He paused, considering her words. Something seemed to click within him as he hummed in agreement with her assessment.

“My, my, Alice. You’ve gone from commanding officer to lover in the span of not even a day.” His lips curved into a teasing grin. “Looks like I better watch it. May make some jealous.”

“Does…does that bother you?”

He shook his head. “It makes me happy. More than you could ever know,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to her forehead.

Alice found relief in his words. She snuggled next to him, happy to be his teddy bear for the precise moment. Happy to be his in any capacity. She closed her eyes as the medicine continued to exhaust her. Sleep came with warm thoughts dwelling upon what the future held for them.

****

Amber eyes blinked for what must have been a thousand times in the course an hour. A long hour where every minute seemed to drag.

Vincent looked down at the unconscious figure lying upon his chest. Her breathing had softened forty minutes ago, when sleep had taken her from the land of the conscious and restless.

He had much to be restless about. The rawness of the experience. The way he’d melted in the wake of her touch, warm fingertips stroking the edge of his throat and traveling slowly, ever so deliberately, down his chest and to his stomach.

We’d go further…

Vincent’s breath hitched. Further…

A promise. A promise he was sure to hold her to.

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, the teen traced a finger down her exposed back. He only hoped she’d heal quickly.

However…

The boy frowned as his eyes lingered to the door for what must’ve been the hundredth time. Past the wooden barrier and down the hallway lied a soul who begrudged what they had. A blackened soul who’d made the angel he held close in his arms cry with his careless words.

No. Careless implied accidental. There had been a purpose, an aim, behind the things Kurt had said. The goal was to degrade her, to make her feel shame for having dared to love him.

Vincent narrowed his eyes. He had warned the belligerent youth. Even gave him more than one chance to get his act together.

Jack had said the arguing would get them killed.

The boy closed his eyes as his hand reached inside his pocket. His fingers stroked the course handle of the pocketknife he’d slapped out of Kurt’s grasp. He remembered, vividly, the glint of its polished surface. Unlike Kurt, he was willing to put the blade to use.

He grasped the pillow and shifted his body. Alice’s head migrated from his chest to the pillow he pulled to her head. The lieutenant groaned. Life started to flutter into her blue eyes. Confusion as to why her human headrest had been substituted for a cloth one.

“Vin, where you goin’?”

Part of his name along with a semblance of proper English etiquette had been slurred, a byproduct of exhaustion coupled with a painkiller.

Vincent offered the exhausted woman a smile. “Go back to sleep, darling. Just tending to some business,” he said before he kissed her forehead.

She grumbled something, likely an acknowledgment, before she drifted back to sleep. With as much as her body had endured, little coaxing was necessary. Vincent found things better that way. Less messy of an entanglement.

His bare feet landed upon the floorboards. The initial creek was the only sound they made before he tiptoed along the ground. The door opened; its hinge proved quiet enough to not give away his departure.

Several steps forward. His eyes darted to the kitchen. No life. The only sound made was Matthew’s snoring. Even then, that noise came faintly.

He advanced a few more steps before he scanned his eyes towards the living room. No movement there, aside from the subtle motion of the curtain blown by the wind.

Turning on his heel, he made his way to the desired door; his hand latched onto the knob. With the inevitable twist came a soft ‘click’.

Vincent crept into the room. Sprawled out on the mattress lied the one who’d extracted tears from Alice. He watched the unconscious figure from the entryway and resisted the urge to growl. Even the undignified way he snored irked him. Everything about this man seemed intent on repulsing him. In a way, that revulsion made his advance towards him all the easier.

He pulled the knife out of his pocket. The blade gave a ‘click’ as it unfolded from its curled position. Taking a deep breath, the only one he did since his journey from his bed, he made his move.

****

Kurt’s heart thundered. Some foreign weight made itself known. The mattress by his head seemed to depress from the landing.

He jerked, his eyes wide open. His heart did a flip at the sight. A dark figure hovered above him.

When he went to scream, the sound was muffled. A hand pressed itself against his mouth. In quick succession, something else touched his throat. Sharp and pointed. Even with as fast as the moment ran, even in the middle of a black room, it didn’t take much in the way of imagination to discern it was a blade.

Had the party from earlier returned? Was it the joyriders in the truck? Maybe it was someone else, or another group entirely that had stalked the residence searching for signs of life, waiting patiently in the dead of the night before they encroached into the residence and cornered their prey.

No. The figure on him was too familiar.

Golden eyes gleamed at Kurt within the darkness. Black bangs he could barely make out with the scant light of the moon adorned the forehead of his visitor.

“We need to talk.”

The tone sounded light, almost a whisper, yet the deep quality proved unmistakable. Vincent.

Kurt’s eyes lingered down to the object at his throat. It suddenly made sense why he couldn’t find the pocketknife. This lunatic had smuggled it out from under him, back when they’d had their altercation at the campfire.

Don’t make me kill you.

He didn’t dare laugh. The boy had meant his words, no matter how remorsefully spoken they were. He planned on carrying out his threat.

There was no way he’d get away with it though. He couldn’t. The group would have questions if they found him dead in the morning with his throat slit open.

“It scares me in a way.”

Vincent was scared. Kurt found that comment to be quite the disgusting joke. That psychopath wasn’t the one with a knife pointing directly at his throat.

Golden slits narrowed. “How calm I feel right now. I thought, when I came in here, I’d feel something. You know, a beating heart. My pulse racing,” the boy frowned as he spoke. “I feel fine. What I’m doing right now is as easy as breathing. That can’t be normal, can it?”

The hand covering Kurt’s mouth remained still. The question was meant to be rhetorical. Even if it wasn’t, the technician had no desire to move his head in any capacity. Not when he risked getting cut.

“The people at the prison said I was an experiment. A monster devoid of emotions. Those are lies, I’ll have you know. I feel. Alice makes me feel. Happiness. Belonging. Love. She means the world to me, Kurt. She’s honestly all I have.”

No, he had a knife. Kurt could attest to that fact. Right now, he was stuck listening to a boy vent his personal problems to him. Throughout his time under Leo’s parentage, he’d been given many roles. Lab technician, engineer, tech support, and doctor. Supposing he didn’t get killed, he’d need to jot down therapist onto his resume.

“What I’m saying means nothing to you. You’ve…” he trailed off for a few seconds, searching for the rights words to share. “…never woken up unsure of who you are. I’m sure you see that as pathetic. A bullshit amnesia story, I believe you said. I wish it were, Kurt. I really wish it were. But try to imagine having nothing to your name. No memories. No connections. Not even the face of your own mother or father to comfort you. It’s sad really.”

Vincent eased his hand off the boy’s mouth. Kurt could at least breathe easier. Though not too easy. The knife remained firmly in place.

“Kurt…I know you couldn’t care less. This isn’t meant to be a sob story. I don’t need your pity.”

“Then why?” Kurt asked.

He regretted his question immediately when the knife nicked his chin. He let out a yelp before Vincent pressed his hand onto his mouth again.

“I was just getting to that. Refrain from running your mouth, please. It’s that nasty habit of yours that’s gotten you stuck here on the business end of this knife.”

The words Vincent spoke were cordial enough. The tone a tranquil fury. Even. Purposeful. Kurt imagined if he interrupted him again, he wouldn’t be let off with a small cut. No, Vincent would kill him. That much was too obvious.

“What I’m impressing upon you is that Alice gives my life meaning. She makes me happy. Completes me. Without her, I likely would kill myself. I have no one else,” he said. The slit pupils observing Kurt narrowed as they regarded him with a frosty look. “So you can understand why I don’t take too kindly to someone hurting this precious person.”

Kurt trembled. Tears left his eyes well before he closed them. He really was going to die. This lunatic would find a way to worm himself out of trouble. Maybe he’d kill him and dispose of his body. He could foist the blame upon the home invaders.

“If you ever make her cry like that again, I will fucking end you,” Vincent said, his voice dropping to an even harsher tone. “I will shove this blade through your throat, twist it, and watch you choke on your own blood.”

The hand left his mouth and gently patted his cheek. The mattress creaked as Vincent rose from it. When Kurt dared to open his eyes and look up, he found the teen staring at him from the doorway.

“You cut yourself while shaving,” Vincent said as he retracted the blade of the pocketknife. “You should be more careful. Could get infected.”

Kurt resisted the urge to yell at him. To call the man a psycho; a deranged lunatic. He was too scared to do so. The look in the boy’s eyes made it clear he’d come back over there and kill him well before the others had a chance to come rushing to his aid.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go back to bed with your sister,” he said. He paused a moment before the ghost of a smile flickered on his features. He amended his words. “With my girlfriend.”

Death left his bedroom. Kurt wept, covering the noise with the pillow. Things had spiraled out of control. His sister was with a dangerous man. For all his efforts to help, he’d only shoved them further apart. So far away that he’d never retrieve her again.

He didn’t sleep for the remainder of the night. Instead, for the first time in years, he prayed to a being he swore didn’t exist. For it was only by the grace of God that he had survived the encounter.